Honesty is the Best Policy
by Gojirahkiin
Summary: Many stories make Harry conclude that he's been manipulated. What if Voldemort reached that conclusion? Worse, what if he prompted Harry to do the same? Put more simply, Voldemort encourages Harry to think after presenting the truth in the darkest light possible...


Harry Potter was bound to a gravestone watching as the newly reconstituted Voldemort walked towards him. It seemed that this was the end for him, but through the pain in his scar he glared defiantly, refusing even to break eye contact.

Voldemort, as a talented Legilimens, considered breaking the boy's mind, but saw something that caught his interest; or rather a lack of something.

Potter did not know the prophecy. He did not know much - if anything - about his parents. He knew little magic besides the summoning and disarming charms.

The soul of Tom Marvolo Riddle was far too damaged to experience empathy, but his Slytherin mind came to a striking conclusion. Dumbledore wanted the boy ignorant for some reason; that could mean any number of things, but if the truth were presented in a certain way, it could mean that Potter would become a powerful ally.

So instead of killing Harry on the spot or summoning his Death Eaters, Voldemort waved his wand and cauterized Wormtail's wound, the pain knocking his lackey out.

Harry's glare became an expression of confusion, and Voldemort nearly laughed at how easy the boy was to read. Now to guide his thoughts in just the right direction…

"Tell me Harry, do you know why I targeted your family that night?"

Harry was caught off guard by the question, but snarled back, "I don't know, but I'll hazard a guess that it was because they'd never join a murderous bastard like you!"

Such disrespect would normally result in a Cruciatus curse at the offender, but Voldemort controlled his anger; already he felt the cold sense of purpose he did whenever he set out on a personal mission.

"No. While I will not deny that your parents had vexed me - thrice in fact - there was a prophecy that foretold the birth of a child that could stop me. A prophecy brought to my attention by one of my Death Eaters, Severus Snape."

He watched as comprehension and then rage flooded the boy, who then embarked on a slew of swearing that made the Dark Lord raise a nonexistent eyebrow. He could also feel the accidental magic rolling off the boy with murderous intent, trying to exact vengeance upon someone who was not even there.

Eventually, the boy ran out of breath, and the Dark Lord began to shape the truth in the fourteen-year-old's mind.

"Severus's report cost us both dearly Harry. You lost your family, and I lost thirteen years of my existence. Indeed, Severus was quick to distance himself from the rest of my followers, hiding behind Dumbledore's belief that everyone can be redeemed. I suspect that is why the old man keeps him as potion's master; the threat of the truth outing to either light or dark keeps him loyal."

Voldemort could see through Harry's eyes that the boy's anger was directing his thoughts down the desired path. While the boy did not consider Voldemort an ally, he no longer considered Dumbledore to be one either. He could see the boy's anger at the way Severus had treated him for the entirety of his time at Hogwarts. Considering Snape an easily disposable pawn, Voldemort was quick to drive the nail into the coffin.

"I can see that Dumbledore also did not tell you that Severus desired your mother for himself. He asked that I kill you and your father and leave your mother for him to comfort, and no doubt much of his hatred of you stems from that you lived and she did not."

The boy screamed his anger into the night, cursing the name of Severus Snape and wishing ruin upon the professor's every endeavor. This pleased Voldemort. Now it was time to employ another tactic: guilt by association.

"I must admit, even I find myself surprised that Dumbledore does not reign him in. I cannot fathom the absurd reasoning of Albus Dumbledore, but Severus' Hogwarts tenure has reduced the number of students who go on to become healers and aurors, something that I can tell you think would benefit me. But I have heard of his protection of Slytherin House from any consequences of their actions," indeed, he could see every time that Draco Malfoy goaded Harry, knowing full well that Snape would never punish him, "And this has caused their cunning to deteriorate. I suspect that Dumbledore wishes to become the savior of Wizarding Britain that he has not been since the defeat of Grindelwald. A well-defended populace would not be so easy for me to overthrow, but the lack of cunning in this new generation also makes conquest itself difficult."

"Why… why tell me all of this?" Harry asked, his voice ragged from raging against Snape.

Now Voldemort could see the web of truths and implications coming together in Potter's mind. It was time to go for the kill, metaphorically speaking.

"The prophecy I heard all those years ago says that you have the power to kill me, and my ill-planned decision to kill your parents gave you the motivation, but no part of the prophecy says that you will kill me. While it is in effect, the only one capable of killing either of us is the other. I believe that Dumbledore intends for me to kill you, rendering the prophecy void. He will then swoop in and kill me before fate intervenes with another prophecy."

He saw Potter's mind reel at the suggestion, the desire for another explanation, and then the doubt as he recalled the headmaster's continued protection of Snape.

"Consider it Harry. If you were ever truly meant to be my undoing, surely you would have been trained. You would have been provided the finest of tutors from the moment you could cast a spell, not left to rot for ten years in a cupboard under the stairs."

Harry hesitated and asked, "But… that still doesn't explain… why tell me this?"

"It is simple Harry. As long as you live and the prophecy remains in effect, I am immortal! But there is more than that. Dumbledore is my enemy, and the evidence suggests that he is also yours. I offer an alliance against our common enemy, and as a token of my sincerity, I am willing to do what Dumbledore will never do - kill Severus Snape."

The boy was silent for a moment, then very softly he replied, "Make him suffer and I think we can work something out."

Smiling for more reasons than one, the Dark Lord said, "Of course Harry."

* * *

Harry Potter's return, bleeding from a dagger wound and shaking from Cruciatus exposure, had shocked everyone, including the other three champions.

No doubt they'd be more shocked if they knew that Harry had asked for the torture curse. His performance needed to be authentic to avoid arousing suspicion. He also felt that he deserved it for siding with the man who'd killed his family, but Voldemort had as much as said that that was a mistake, while Dumbledore's continued protection of Snape said that he didn't value the Potters' lives one bit.

Snape. That was a subject he needed to stop thinking of. He couldn't let on that he knew before Snape left the castle or everything would be for nothing.

When Mad-Eye Moody started taking him away after Harry had told Dumbledore that Voldemort returned, Harry followed, glad to be away from the old man who'd destroyed his life and spat on his parents' memories. He was also glad that one of Voldemort's men was near him.

Harry's discussion with the Dark Lord had continued for some time, including some plans for what to do, and the reveal that Moody was in fact a polyjuiced Barty Crouch Junior. Once inside "Moody's" office, Harry got straight to the point.

"The password is the Greatest of the Hogwarts Four."

Moody's eyes both stared at him. "My Lord's orders?"

"Polyjuice or not, you need to leave, now, and take the trunk with you. Moody's too valuable an ally to Dumbledore to let him remain here, and with everything else tonight, something might have blown your cover."

Crouch nodded.

"One last thing: you need to bind me so it looks like you were planning to kill me before you were interrupted. I can take care of the rest."

And so Harry found himself magically tied to a chair as Crouch fled the castle with his most important items, trunk included.

A minute or so after Crouch had left, Dumbledore burst into the room, radiating power with Professor McGonagall on one side and Snape on the other.

Harry dug a finger into his dagger wound both to sound injured and to distract himself from the greasy git's presence.

"Professor Dumbledore, I don't know what happened, Moody suddenly attacked me!"

"That man was not Alastor Moody, Harry. The real Alastor would never have taken you from my sight after what you said tonight. Severus, Minerva, please begin searching the grounds. The culprit may still be in the school. Harry, come here, I will take you to the Hospital Wing to treat your injuries first, but after that you must tell me what happened."

Somewhat rejuvenated by the healing of his injuries, Harry spun the tale that Voldemort had suggested.

The story was accurate to a point. They had not come up with another ritual that could have brought Voldemort back, so with great reluctance the Dark Lord had permitted Harry to share the full ritual - this was the foundation of truth upon which all the following lies were built.

In this version of events, Voldemort had emerged from the cauldron angry at having been denied the closure of the kill for so long. He'd made Wormtail release Harry with the intent to torture him to the brink of death before summoning his followers to witness the execution. But Harry had been too fast. Not wanting to be tortured or killed, Harry had ducked behind a gravestone and summoned the Triwizard Cup, which thankfully portkeyed him to the stage.

A small part of Harry was still undecided about Dumbledore's intentions, but at some point around when he'd described Voldemort using Harry's blood to restore himself he'd had an expression of triumph on his face for a moment, and that sealed it for Harry. No doubt Dumbledore believed the protection on the Dursley's home would no longer work and Voldemort could just walk in and kill Harry at leisure. Well, just once the headmaster was in for a surprise.

* * *

Eventually allowed to leave the Hospital Wing, Harry ignored people that week, generally assumed to be because of the shock he'd received during the time he'd been missing from the grounds. In fact, Harry was reevaluating his friends.

Ron had once told him that Dumbledore was one of his personal heroes, and Hermione practically worshiped authority. Dumbledore was of course the ultimate authority in her eyes.

On the other hand, Harry didn't want them to die to Voldemort's plans, but he saw no way to prevent it. He didn't dare make any further demands of Voldemort - the terms they'd negotiated were shockingly agreeable to Harry as it was.

All Harry really needed to do was not kill Voldemort, and in exchange he had near-total freedom to live his life, which was all he'd ever really wanted and exactly what the Headmaster had denied him.

* * *

Back at Privet Drive, Harry's things were once again locked away in his former cupboard and he'd been more-or-less thrown into his room. His chores would start tomorrow.

At least that's what the Dursleys thought.

Despite everything, Harry knew that Dumbledore would never let him leave the Dursleys forever. But Voldemort would, and all Harry had to say was one thing.

Laying on his bed, Harry said to nothing in particular, "I knowingly end my mother's protection by renouncing this place as my home."

Nothing seemed to happen, and Harry worried that he'd done something wrong. But then he heard the telltale pop of apparition followed by a voice - muffled by his window but still familiar - hiss "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry's first though was to wonder what one of the Dursleys would be doing outside, then he thought for a moment as Voldemort had suggested and realized that Dumbledore had probably posted a guard to make sure he never left the house.

His gut churned as he hoped it was no one he knew. Still, there was no way to know if he didn't go down and see.

He heard Vernon begin hurling abuse at someone before suddenly screaming, swiftly followed by Petunia and then Dudley doing the same. Now aware that the house was safe for him, Harry opened his door and began moving downstairs.

To his surprise, he found Voldemort inspecting the cupboard under the stairs, the Dursleys apparently having passed out from agony.

"My room at the orphanage was larger," the Dark Lord murmured.

Harry chose that moment to cough.

"Ah, Harry, retrieve your belongings and come. Bring your wand. I require something of you before we may leave."

Harry did so without complaint. They'd discussed this by way of owl post. At first Harry had wanted mere freedom, but Voldemort had urged him to think - without the Dursleys, where would Dumbledore send him? At first Harry had hoped for the Weasley's home, but then realized that wasn't an environment where he'd be molded into the weapon Dumbledore seemed to want him to be. The only place that he could imagine that would replicate Dursley abuse was Azkaban.

And so Harry had steeled himself for this.

Harry stepped over the heavily breathing Dudley at the base of the stairs.

"Your first lesson as my apprentice Harry. We discussed this at length by owl."

Harry looked down at Dudley. He remembered all the years of Harry hunting, the beatings, the humiliations, the verbal abuse. He focused on those feelings, on the lack of a single positive memory of his cousin and aimed his wand at the fat thug.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A jet of green light later and Dudley stilled.

Harry stepped into the living room and saw that Vernon had been on the couch and aunt Petunia had come out of the dining room to investigate when he screamed. They lay mostly motionless on the ground.

A tiny part of Harry - the frightened little boy who'd only ever wanted love - dared take a glance at Voldemort, who nodded. They would not be leaving until this task was completed.

Harry took aim at Vernon and remembered every bit of verbal abuse, every time the man had seen Dudley at work and encouraged it, and every attempt to deny him his heritage.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A jet of green light and Vernon too was dead.

Finally Harry looked to Petunia. He remembered how she'd always catered to Dudley's every whim, how she'd punished him for ever asking questions about his parents, how she'd slandered them in death.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A jet of green light and the Dursleys were no more. He would never have to return to this wretched place. He felt hollow and sick at the killing despite its bloodless nature, but this had been the only way to prove to Voldemort that he was serious about joining him for protection from Dumbledore, and to earn the training necessary to prevent anyone from ever controlling him again.

Three terrible people in exchange for his future was how he'd rationalized it, and how he continued to do so now.

Mere moments later, Dumbledore arrived to find a dead Mundungus Fletcher and the three dead Dursleys with no sign of Harry and wondered what could possibly have gone wrong.

* * *

Voldemort arrived with Harry inside an opulent manor house.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor, Harry. I have spoken to Draco and now I will speak to you: whatever may have transpired at Hogwarts under Dumbledore's manipulations is gone now. You are both beholden to me, and so you shall not fight one another unless I approve of it. Is that understood."

"Yes sir. As long as I don't have to share a room with him. I refused to be sorted into Slytherin to avoid that, and that's not changing now."

Voldemort looked at him with a strange mix of anger and curiosity. "You refused Salazar Slytherin's noble house?"

Harry paused realizing his mouth had worked without his brain and said, "My apologies. The Sorting Hat told me that I would do well in Slytherin, but at that point everything I'd heard about Slytherin was bad and Mal- Draco was the only person I knew in the house and he left a bad impression."

Voldemort's anger did not quite subside, but he asked another question. "And what was this impression?"

"He insulted my first friend... who was part of a family of Dumbledore supporters, damn it!"

Voldemort nodded. "Now you see the depth of the headmaster's transgressions against you, but time will heal what hurts have been done at his behest. Come, there is another task I have for you."

The two found their way to the Malfoy cellar, a hidden location that Voldemort seemed to know how to open. And there Harry saw something that made his blood boil.

"It is time to learn how to use the Cruciatus curse Harry, and so I present to you Severus Snape to assist."

Were it anyone else, Harry's gut would have churned with nausea, but for Snape he could scarcely wait to begin. While obviously worse for wear, Snape was still clearly alive, albeit sleeping, and that would not do at all.

"Crucio!"

Snape screamed, but it did not appear to hurt him all that much, he looked up and immediately glared. "Potter! What do you think you-"

"Shut up you traitorous greasy bastard! Crucio!"

Again the potion's master screamed, but again it did not seem to hurt him that much. He snarled, "Incompetent and treacherous brat, when I get out of here-"

"Crucio! I don't understand, what am I doing wrong Master?"

Voldemort waved his wand and concealed his pleasure that Harry already thought of him as Master and Snape was forcibly silenced. "Tell me, what do you think of when you cast the curse?"

"I think of what he did to my family."

Though neither paid attention to him Snape paled as he realized what this meant and what was occurring before his eyes.

The Dark Lord shook his head. "Righteous anger cannot cast a proper Cruciatus curse Harry. You must want him to suffer, not merely to avenge."

"I do want that!"

"Then you must focus on that, on making him suffer, rather than on vengeance for your parents."

Harry turned to look at Snape, and his expression curled into a sneer that would not have looked out of place on the potion's master.

"Crucio!"

Still silenced, Snape convulsed in clear agony. Harry looked at his wand in wonder.

"Well done Harry. Again, to make sure that you truly understand how."

Harry paused and said, "I want you to obliviate him first."

For once Voldemort was caught off guard, "And why is that?"

"Because I want him to know exactly how I felt around him, wondering why the person in front of him hates him so much while he suffers."

Voldemort laughed. Even if this sadistic streak only applied to Severus for the moment, that it had been woken was quite the achievement.

"Alas, even I cannot grant such a request Harry. Severus's entire life has been dominated by his hatred of your father whom you so resemble. To erase everything in relation to him would be a monumental task."

The entire time, despite being silenced, Snape continued to spew vitriol at Harry until the boy cursed him again.

* * *

Half an hour later, an exhausted Harry asked, "Are there any other torture curses? I want to keep going, but this is getting a bit old."

Voldemort gave him another curious look and replied, "Nearly every spell can be a torture curse with enough thought, though none are as effective as the Cruciatus. But if you tire of Severus' existence, by all means dispose of him however you wish."

Harry glared at Snape one last time and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"

* * *

Two years later the Ministry had fallen well into Voldemort's hands. Even worse, there seemed to be an efficiency that his pure blooded followers weren't known for in the way the new Ministry worked, as though someone were motivating them beyond appeasing their master's ego.

Hogwarts alone stood and it had become a refuge for all who opposed the Dark Lord.

But inside the castle, Dumbledore despaired. The International Confederation of Wizards saw Voldemort as a purely British issue and would not send aid. Not that it mattered, because Dumbledore knew of the prophecy and since Harry had gone missing two years ago, there was no one left to oppose Voldemort. He often had sleepless nights where he wondered what had happened to the boy and how the blood protections could have failed.

He was _certain_ that Lily's protection would apply until Harry reached the age of 17, and he was equally sure that her protection blocked Voldemort's soul rather than his blood.

And yet the protection had fallen and Harry had disappeared. Ms. Granger, before her unfortunate disappearance and likely death, had suggested that Harry might have run away during whatever had happened, but if that were the case then surely he'd have tried to communicate his whereabouts to someone he trusted, such as her, Mr. Weasley, or Dumbledore himself.

The thought of Mr. Weasley broke his heart. The Weasley's had been loyal to the light to the end, but they had disappeared one by one until there was an assault on the Burrow. His final words before the connection had been cut were, "Dumbledore, he's betrayed us, it's-"

But Dumbledore had never found out who betrayed them, no matter how hard he tried.

Suddenly Minerva burst into his office looking panicked. "Albus, the Dark Mark - it's over the astronomy tower!"

The Headmaster hurried to his feet and immediately began making his way towards the tower. "Minerva, ensure that the students are safe, I must go and investigate the tower."

He did not even wait for her assent, he knew she would protect the students - he had to make sure that there was nothing and no one at the tower. There was every possibility that it was a trap.

Soon, but all too slowly in his mind he arrived at the apex of the tower. Immediately he whirled around and blocked a spell, one he recognized as being a deadly form of stunning spell designed to permanently paralyze the body.

Dumbledore cast a number of revelation spells to determine where the assailant was, but all came up saying that he was alone. He frowned.

"Don't like not knowing what's going on, do you old man?"

It wasn't a voice the headmaster recognized, but that meant nothing - any number of spells could disguise one's voice. Much more worrisome was that it seemed to come from everywhere atop the tower.

"No one ever truly knows what is going on. The world is far too wide and wondrous for that." As he spoke he began casting silent and subtler detection spells.

The mysterious attacker grunted, "Hmph. 'Wide and wondrous' you say? Not something I'd know thanks to you."

"I have heard that Azkaban is amongst the worst of places in the world, and I admit that I am inclined to believe it."

"Oh, I've never been to Azkaban old man, although you certainly did do your best to make things almost that bad."

Dumbledore was now at a complete loss. This person had never been to Azkaban, but claimed he'd done horrible things to them? "I am afraid I do not know what you mean, but Death Eaters are often deluded, so perhaps that is a sign that I am quite sane."

"Death Eater? You think any old Death Eater could sneak into Hogwarts and cast the Dark Mark under your nose? I'll admit, I thought that for a long time until I discovered the magical exception you made for your old pal Snape."

The mention of Snape brought up old wounds and Dumbledore redoubled his efforts to locate his attacker; the assailant's voice left no doubt as his opinion on - and the likely fate of - poor Severus.

Still, the least he could give the young man was certainty of his fate, so Dumbledore inquired, "Am I to understand that Severus was killed because I protected him?"

The voice chuckled evilly, "Oh I know what you're doing. You want to be certain what happened to him, you want to honor his memory right? Well choke on this old man: Snape as good as killed my entire family and the Dark Lord let me have my revenge."

It was a reflex at this point from responding to years of complaints, but Dumbledore said, "I know for a fact that Severus regretted-"

"Regretted what?!" The voice snapped, "Not showing up in the ashes of my family home and killing me off? Or maybe it was not imperiusing my mom to shag him? No, your pet Death Eater didn't regret a damned thing and I'm glad I made him suffer before the end! Avada Kedavra!"

In a burst of flame, Dumbledore's loyal phoenix Fawkes appeared in the path of the hated green light and blocked it with his body, instantly bursting into flames and falling into a pile of ashes. Albus turned in time to see a figure in dark robes throwing the young phoenix chick off the tower.

"Damn bird! I almost had you!"

What followed was a short and intense duel. Dumbledore, in his anger at what had been done to Fawkes and said of Severus's fate, had not fully registered what his opponent had said about his own family, and so had not put together the puzzle pieces. Instead he was watching his enemy's spell work. He seemed to prefer sticking to powerful elemental spells, punctuated by the occasional unforgivable curse.

A few moments later, his cheek was cut deeply by a powerful jet of water when an Imperius curse that actually hit told him to hold still, but the pain allowed him to break free and disarm his attacker and blast back his hood.

The figure had long, messy black hair and most unusually, a crimson mask.

Dumbledore had heard of this person, but discounted his existence as a terror tactic. Tom only accepted masks that were silver or green - Slytherin colors. The man in the red mask was said to charge boldly into heavily defended areas and break the back of resistance, only to withdraw and allow other Death Eaters to clean up the mess.

"Damn you old man, you'll never take me alive!"

The figure produced a dagger and nearly brought it to their neck, but with his wand already on them, Dumbledore was faster and disarmed him.

The masked man scuttled away until he was against the ramparts and then charged Dumbledore. Albus was nearly caught off guard by his speed, but managed to stun him and move out of the way. He fell face-first onto the tower floor and his mask split.

Using magic, Albus rolled him over, and nearly had a heart attack at what he saw.

"Harry!?"

Reluctantly, Albus bound him and then tried to take him down the tower, only to bounce off a powerful charm, one he found on scanning to be specially designed to prevent his exit.

Deciding that he could work just as well up here as down there, Albus awakened Harry, who immediately began shouting and struggling.

"Harry, it is alright, hold still and I will remove whatever curse Tom has put on you."

"Save your breath old man! I know you're just glad to have your sacrifice back! Well guess what, it's not happening. The Dark Lord may have been the one who killed my parents, but it was you and Snape who pointed him at them!"

Dumbledore was taken aback, when had Harry learned of Severus' role in his parents' deaths. Was that why he had run away? Had he been captured and brainwashed by that fact to join Tom?

"See, you can't even be bothered to deny it! Well guess, what, I refuse to die for you! I made an Unbreakable Vow that you would never control me again!"

Gasping in horror, Dumbledore tried to look into Harry's mind to see if this was true, only to be rebuffed.

"The Dark Lord thought you'd try that _Headmaster_ , and he taught me _all_ about the mind arts in preparation for this."

"Harry, I do not know what lies he has told you but-"

"Lies? Lies?! Oh that's rich coming from you. Fact: you left me at the Dursleys. Fact: the Dursleys kept me in a cupboard under the stairs. Fact: there was a prophecy that only I could kill Voldemort. Fact: Snape gave that prophecy to Voldemort. Fact: you never reined him in when he insulted my family or me. Can you make an Unbreakable Vow that _any_ of these things isn't true?"

Dumbledore was stunned, first at what the Dursleys had done, and then at what Harry knew.

The pause was all the confirmation Harry needed and he decided that he would goad Dumbledore into killing him, "Lord Voldemort showed me more trust that night in the graveyard than you had in my entire life. He explained to me your real motives for keeping me in the dark professor, oh yes. He told me about how once I was dead the prophecy would be void and you could sweep in and defeat him, taking all credit. But to make sure I'd die I had to be ignorant, downtrodden. He never said this, but I daresay you wanted me suicidal so that when he came after me I'd embrace death. Well guess what? The two of us played you like a fiddle and you never saw it coming!" Harry laughed uproariously at Dumbledore's silence.

Dumbledore was beginning to realize what Tom had done, and just how badly it meant he'd failed Harry. Tom had noticed how little Harry knew and then twisted the truth to appear in the worst possible light. Dumbledore had hoped to shield Harry from having the weight of the world on his shoulders. He had needed Severus to continue spying on Tom, and Tom had been willing to sacrifice his double agent to secure Harry's loyalty and to cast doubt on Dumbledore himself.

Such was Dumbledore's despair that he did not register footsteps coming up the stairs or the silent spell that disarmed him.

"Master!" Harry cried, the joy in his voice like a knife in Dumbledore's heart.

"I truly am ashamed of you headmaster," Tom said in a mocking mimicry of the old man's grandfatherly tone, "You of all people should know that honesty is the best policy. Avada Kedavra!"

Harry laughed on the ground, at last feeling free of the specter of Dumbledore's control. "We won, Master, we won!"

"Kneel my apprentice, there is one last task before you are free to live life as you choose."

Harry knelt, the joy in his heart meaning he didn't catch the menace in Voldemort's tone.

Harry never even felt the curse that killed him, and with his death Voldemort turned the Sword of Gryffindor into his final horcrux with the soul fragment he'd reabsorbed from Harry years ago.

Tom Marvolo Riddle smiled inwardly. Harry was wrong.

 _He_ had won.


End file.
